


Model

by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)



Series: Occasionally Domestic [13]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, College Student Stiles, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Model Derek, Sulking, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:04:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaydenNara/pseuds/Little%20Spoon
Summary: Stiles needed an A on his assignment to pass his arts elective, and Derek was going to help him, whether he liked it or not, because face it, Derek was the most fucking gorgeous creature on the goddamn planet. Totally A+ material.





	Model

“Just take your damn pants off, Derek,” Stiles snapped, which spawned the opposite reaction than the one he wanted because instead of snarling at him, big bad, beta Derek Hale was sulking.

Derek stood shirtless and barefoot in the middle of their loft, which wasn’t all that uncommon, except for the part where he was hugging himself like he wanted to hide. It wasn’t anything that Stiles hadn’t seen before. Not just the adorable shyness that occasionally overtook the former alpha, but the nudity too. Just the night before, he’d licked every inch of Derek’s fucking beautifully sculpted abs before fucking himself on his boyfriend's cock, but the little pout on Derek’s lips and hunch of his shoulder made Stiles’ stomach knot uncomfortably.

Stiles ruffled his hair with both hands in frustration. “Derek-”

“I changed my mind,” Derek grunted.

“You, what? You changed your mind?” Stiles said and snatched Derek’s shirt off the back of the couch before his boyfriend could grab it. “You can’t change your mind. You promised!”

Derek reached around Stiles, clawing for the shirt. “Well, I just did.”

If this assignment hadn’t been for the final grade for his arts elective, the one he was already doing poorly in due to his severe lack of artistic ability, Stiles probably would have shrugged it off and found a new subject. The freaking course was called ‘Learning to Draw.’ Yeah, right. All Stiles had learned was that he sucked at art, and he couldn’t afford to fail or he’d lose his partial scholarship. His grade was riding on Derek’s participation.

Stiles lost his balance. Arms flailing, he dragged Derek down with him onto the couch. The werewolf’s hefty weight of pure muscle knocked the wind out of him, and he gasped for air.

“I need a living, breathing model for my class,” Stiles said. He stuffed the shirt between his back and the couch cushions, but that didn’t stop Derek from chasing after it, hand slipping under Stiles’ body. “Where am I gonna find one on short notice?”

The werewolf growled and pinned Stiles hands above his head. “The park?”

“The... the park?” Stiles sputtered in disbelief. “Oh my god.”

Derek freed the stolen shirt from underneath Stiles’ squirming body and raised it triumphantly above his head while Stiles remained pinned under him.

“I’m going to kill you.” Stiles redoubled his efforts in his fight for freedom. “I’m just... I’m going to kill you.”

Shirt draped over his shoulder, Derek smirked down at his captive.

“You know,” Stiles drawled. He tilted his head to the side to expose his throat, and the wolf above him rumbled happily at the show of submission and trust. Stiles smirked. “When I asked, you said yes.”

Derek snorted and climbed off Stiles.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the couch, Stiles sat up and rubbed his wrists where Derek had gripped just a tad too tight. His boyfriend tended to forget his own strength when he got excited, and Stiles pinned and helpless under him definitely qualified.

“It was going to be amazing,” Stiles sighed. He picked up the charcoal pencil where it had rolled onto the floor during their impromptu wrestling match, and tucked it behind his ear again. “No one else's’ project in my class would even compare.”

“Yeah,” Derek said. He shook out his shirt in preparation to put it back on. “Because they can draw.”

Stiles wasn’t proud of the pterodactyl screech he let loose as he launched himself at Derek and smacked the werewolf in the chest with an open palm. He’d caught Derek off guard enough that the wolf dropped his shirt to catch him.

“Oh my god!” Stiles tried to hit Derek again, but both wrists were caught and held at arm’s length. “Why do I sleep with you?”

Cue a typical Derek Hale eye roll and snort. “Probably for the same reason you want me to model for you.”

“Well...” Stiles shifted, eyes downcast. A hot flush warmed his cheeks. “I mean, it’s an added bonus. I like the cuddles.”

Derek huffed as he dropped Stiles’ wrists and stooped down to pick up his shirt.

“Oh, come on, Derek,” Stiles whined. He trailed after Derek into the kitchen and took a seat at the counter, chin propped on his folded arms beside the shirt Derek had tossed onto the countertop, apparently given up clothing himself. “Would you take a bribe?”

Derek paused, bent over with his head in the fridge.

“Anything you want,” Stiles prodded, a slow smile growing as he sensed weakness. “Anything...”

The refrigerator hummed. Derek grabbed a water bottle and shut the door. As he cracked open the seal, he leaned back against the opposite counter to face Stiles. “Anything?” Derek asked, head tilted, eyebrow raised, and a hint of a smirk on his face.

Stiles’ head popped up off the counter and he threw his hands in the air. “Oh my god! Yes!.”

Derek set the half empty bottle aside and crossed his arms over his bare chest. “I want you to go home to Beacon Hills for Christmas break.”

It took a lot to shut Stiles up, but Derek had managed to stun him into silence. He sat at the counter, palms flat against the cool surface, and his mouth hanging open. Swallowing, he snapped his jaw shut and pulled his hands into his lap, unable to meet Derek’s gaze across the kitchen.

After graduation, Stiles had hopped into Derek’s car and never looked back. His dad visited occasionally. Never for more than a week or a weekend when he managed time off. Scott had only visited once for spring break, but they still talked over skype when they had time.

Not once had Stiles even considered going home. He wasn’t even sure he considered Beacon Hills home anymore. Living with Derek in New York and attending Columbia felt more like home than Beacon Hills ever had. Here, he was safe. Beacon Hills had taken so much from him: his friends, his childhood, his family.

“Your dad called.” Derek’s voice was soft like he was afraid to startle a skittish kitten. “Stiles...” he called. “He misses you.”

“Yeah, well...” Stiles played with the cuff of his hoodie. Beacon Hills wasn’t home. Not anymore. He swallowed painfully. “I miss him too.”

Stiles hadn’t heard Derek move. Stupid stealthy werewolf. He jumped when a warm hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. Stiles stared down at Derek’s bare feet. His toes were a little hairy, and normally Stiles would laugh, but his chest felt too heavy, like Derek’s wolfier side had stretched out over him for a nap.

“Don’t you think it’s time?” Derek asked.

Reluctant, Stiles nodded, and Derek gathered him in a warm hug. Derek hugs were the best. Stiles wished he’d been brave enough to risk a hug during high school, but he never had. Derek’s warm breath tickled his neck, and he felt the weight lift from his chest.

Stiles’ playfully bit Derek’s shoulder. “Now take your damn pants off.”

Snorting, Derek popped the fly of his jeans and shimmied out of his pants in a way that had Stiles covertly adjusting himself in his skinny jeans. Not that it fooled Derek in the least.

The werewolf’s nostrils flared at the scent of Stiles’ arousal, but he kicked his jeans aside. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck before the shift took over. It was sort of a blink and you’d miss it sort of transformation as Derek’s hulking stature shrunk down into the impressive form of an inky black wolf with beautiful blue eyes.

Stiles’ had asked if it hurt once, to which Derek had simply shrugged. He took it to mean yes in Derek’s own unique brand of communication, something Stiles had spent years learning to be fluent in. He still hadn’t quite gotten down all bajillion minute eyebrow movements yet, but he planned to write a manual on how to interpret for the layman.

“Perfect,” Stiles declared. He hopped off the barstool at the counter and raced into the living area of their apartment, rambling as he set up the sketch pad. “Go sketch a wild animal they said. Ha! Bunch of squirrels and pigeons in Central Park. But a wolf!”

Derek trotted into the room behind Stiles and sat, head tilted to the side as he watched Stiles bounce around the room in preparation until Stiles dropped to his knees in front of Derek and wrapped his arms around his neck.

Burying his face in Derek’s fur, Stiles grinned. “I’m so getting an A!”

**Author's Note:**

> You can stalk me on Tumblr here: [Always the Little Spoon](http://always-the-little-spoon.tumblr.com/)


End file.
